


This Is For The Wiry Broke Down Frames Of My Friends' Bodies

by grandpasdeathWish



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Mutual Pining, Past Domestic Violence, Prostitution, Self-Harm, Underage Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-06 17:48:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13416429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grandpasdeathWish/pseuds/grandpasdeathWish





	This Is For The Wiry Broke Down Frames Of My Friends' Bodies

There were a lot of things he chose to leave unsaid.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk about it with her, because he did, but he just couldn’t find the right words to tell her what he felt without crossing a line. So instead, he decided to just sit back and pretend he didn’t notice. 

The bruises were fine, he supposed. She said she’d fallen or bumped into something, and sure, yeah, that could’ve happened. He knew they weren’t from that, but it was a lot easier if he just nodded and pretended that he believed her - she wouldn’t lie to him unless it was important, right? He’d seen the guys she chose to date grab her a little too roughly or even hit her a couple times, but that wasn’t his place to comment on, so he bit his lip and pretended not to notice.  
He could pretend the bitemarks were okay too, if he wanted. It wasn’t just bitemarks, of course, but he didn’t want to think too hard on it. She’d been dating here and there, and he definitely wasn’t jealous of the fact that she was intimate with someone else. He was confused when they were appearing even after her most recent breakup, but if she was happy, he was happy.

The rapid weight loss was a little harder to ignore, but he tried anyways. He tried to ask her what was going on, if she was sick, if she needed to talk to someone, but she laughed him off. The look she gave him was so sickeningly prideful, like she’d been trying so hard for something he couldn’t quite place. He didn’t think it was just about the weight, although he doubted she’d tell him what was really up. He tried not to notice how lunch slowly faded out of her routine and how she stopped coming over for dinner entirely

And then there were the cuts - Jesus Christ, that was a lot to be expected to overlook. His parents were gone, so he decided to invite her to sleep over. She paled a little at the offer, providing half-truths of having to work, and not having anything to sleep in. He sheepishly offered her a pair of way too big pajama pants and a grey tee shirt he hadn’t fit in since sixth grade (he wasn’t going to think about the implications of that, if he thought too hard, he’d have to say something). 

Her eyes widened at the short sleeved shirt but she went and changed anyways, returning with her arms tightly crossed against her body.

“Are you okay? You’re not exactly acting like yourself.”

“Of course, dumbass, what do you mean?”

“I mean something’s up, Sardoris, care to explain?”

“Zeke, my dear, I am not nearly drunk enough for that discussion,” she rolled her eyes, but let her arms fall to her sides. 

Dozens upon dozens of thin lines took up residence on her pale arms and if he hadn’t been so committed to pretending not to notice he would’ve burst into tears. Instead, his breath hitched just slightly, and he looked away out of politeness.

“Gross, I know, but don’t say anything, okay?” She tried for a smile, but it was contorted in ways they both knew made it unrecognizable so she went for a neutral expression instead.

Just days later at school, he watched her rip something off her locker, shooting a pointed glare across the hall as she tried to figure out who’d put it there. He walked over to her, placing a concerned hand on her shoulder and hoping she’d meet his eyes so he could try to communicate his adoration properly. 

“What’s that?” He inquired, trying to look over her shoulder at the crumpled paper clenched in her hands.

“Nothing,” she shot back, an urgency in her voice reminding him how things worked. She had issues, sure, but neither of them talked about it so they didn’t really exist.  
“Please talk to me,” he all but whimpered, and her expression softened.

“Someone just brought something here that’s not a part of the whole Sardoris brand, you know?” She grinned like it was funny, handing him the paper.  
It was an ad for his best friend. He looked at her desperately, hoping it was a joke, but she just shrugged.

“If you’re hoping I’ll tell you it’s fake, I’m afraid I can’t help you there, Zeke,” she looked down, not really wanting to deal with the disgust she knew was waiting for her.  
He was on the verge of tears. All the pieces were coming together now, and he hated the image that was coming together. Sardoris, his Sardoris, was hurting, and clearly more than she was even letting on. In a moment, he pieced together four things at the exact same time.

The first, and most obvious, was that she was selling herself off. The second was that her weight loss was no accident, and he’d presume it was a stress response. The third was that she was cutting herself, and although he’d known that one for a while, the gravity of it had just sunk in. The last, and most distressing, was that he hadn’t been there for her.

“I’m so sorry,” he breathed, trying to keep himself steady enough to be a proper help to her. What do you say when you find out your best friend is perfectly fine with self-destructing right in front of your eyes?

She laughed humorlessly, a bitter cold tone cutting through him, “don’t be, it’s really my own fault.” She brushed her hair out of her face and he realized that there were tears in her eyes. 

“I love you,” he said. He meant it, of course - he loved her with all his heart and he couldn’t let her go on for another moment with the notion that there was nobody that loved her.

“You shouldn’t.” 

With this, the tears were rolling down her cheeks and she sank to the floor, burying her face in the sleeves of her sweater.

“Sardoris, please talk to me,” he pleaded, “can I please help, or hold you, or something? I don’t want you to be alone right now.”

He sat down beside her and she almost immediately wrapped herself around him, sobs wracking her body. He ran a hand through her hair, he kissed her forehead, he held her as tight as he could without risking hurting her.

As her sobs died down to whimpers, he mumbled quiet praises to her, trying to assure her of something. 

“Please tell me what’s going on.”

 

She couldn’t, not yet, and he couldn’t push her anymore, not right now. He knew something was wrong and he knew he had to help, and that was what mattered right then.  
“I love you too, Ezekiel,” she clung tighter to him, and he knew he’d do anything to get her back to herself.


End file.
